


2880

by AlmondRose



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Domestic Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:22:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28272321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlmondRose/pseuds/AlmondRose
Summary: As they head back to the bridge, Jim can’t stop thinking it. I love him, I love him, I love him. It echoes inside him, mimicking his heartbeat, a tattoo bursting to be free. I love him, I love him, I love him.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Spock
Comments: 30
Kudos: 200





	2880

**Author's Note:**

> title from the amount of minutes in 2 days

Jim wakes up with his alarm, rolling out of bed and groaning. He’s not really a morning person, but he’s pretty good at getting up when his alarm says so.

He replicates himself some coffee and while he waits for it to load he pads to the bathroom. Spock  _ is  _ an early riser, so Jim rarely has to wait to use the bathrooms in the morning. This morning is no exception, and he uses the bathroom and washes his face quickly. He takes his coffee and sips it, inhaling and savoring for a moment before he walks to the computer terminal. 

“Anything to report?” he asks it, and it responds in the negative so Jim goes to his closet to get dressed. Today is Tuesday, so swimming day. Jim puts on his swimsuit and folds his uniform into a duffel bag, taking his coffee and leaving his quarters behind. Janice Rand is in the turbolift, already in uniform although her shift doesn’t start until Jim’s does. 

“Up early, Yeoman?” he asks her, and she shrugs. 

“Couldn’t sleep,” she says, and she gets off at a floor before Jim’s stop. He walks through the gym, nodding at crewman who greet him. Although he’s just woken up, some people here are on the night shift and doing an end-of-the-day workout, like Riley, who Jim watches wrestle for a moment before he continues on to the pool. 

He lets himself in and drops his duffel quietly on a bench next to the wall, mindful of the stretches Spock is engaged in across the room. Some sort of Vulcan pre-swimming ritual that Jim sometimes does with him. He sips the last of his coffee and watches his friend fluidly switch positions, grace and power in his every purposeful movement. For a moment, Jim can indulge himself and just watch. 

I love him, he thinks, watching Spock’s back muscles shift, and then he puts the empty cup beside his duffle and takes off his shoes and shirt, crossing the room to stand across from Spock, mirroring his movements. Spock’s eyes are closed, but Jim is certain the other man is aware of him. He probably can hear Jim’s breathing with his superior Vulcan hearing. 

They only stretch for a minute or two more before Spock stops, opening his eyes. 

“Good morning, Mister Spock,” Jim says, smiling at him. “Ready to hit the pool?”

“It is not ‘morning’, as there is no such concept in space, and I do not believe that striking the surface of the water will serve any conductive purpose,” Spock says, his voice that shade of warm it gets when he’s fucking with him, and Jim’s smile widens. 

I love him, he thinks. 

“Of course,” Jim says. “Except I would argue that a crucial part of any stroke is, actually, striking the surface of the water, and therefore there is a conductive purpose to hitting the pool.” Spock’s eyes narrow but he inclines his head. 

“As you say,” he says, and they get into the water. They don’t race, but Jim thinks there’s a kind of peace in just doing laps together. Jim used to work out at night, but after a bout of insomnia and an early-morning workout for something to do, he discovered that Spock favored the gym in the morning, and if Jim instantly switched his schedule to have more time with Spock, well….nobody needs to know. 

After an hour or so, they call it a day and hit the showers. Jim dries off, gets dressed, and goes to the sink to brush his teeth and fix his hair. He steals glances at Spock, applying makeup right next to him, and can’t help but take note of how terribly domestic it all is. He wishes he could reach over and run his hand through Spock’s hair to straighten it out, but he keeps his hands to himself and watches Spock adjust it with a severe-looking comb. 

I love him, he thinks.

When they are dressed, they walk together to the turbolift and Jim watches their feet, moving in unison--left right, left right. He loves how in sync they are, and loves it again when they get into the turbolift and Jim’s stomach rumbles and Spock raises the beloved eyebrow and commands the lift to go to the mess hall. 

They don’t linger for breakfast, just pick up protein bars to go--Jim is sure Spock doesn’t need to eat, but knows Jim hates eating when others don’t. Spock is considerate that way, and Jim loves him. 

“Bridge,” Jim says when they’re back in the lift. They arrive two minutes before their shift starts, and Jim steps away from Spock’s side to relieve the person in his chair and take his seat, still eating his protein bar. He swivels around to see Uhura and Spock behind him and takes note of Chekov and Sulu in front of him, glad for another day. 

The morning is quiet and slow. They are nearing a new solar system and are due to check out one of the planets later on that same day. By all accounts the system should be uninhabited, but they are going to double-check. While they travel, Jim pulls out a PADD and goes over it, reviewing the file one of Spock’s scientists prepared for the new system. When he’s done, Rand passes him over some paperwork. The bridge is quiet except for the hum of the engines under them, Chekov and Sulu whispering to each other, the chimes of various instruments. Jim likes a day to be exciting, but this….this is good, too. 

Jim dismisses Sulu and Uhura for lunch, and when they return he stands up, does a stretch. He leaves Sulu in charge and then he and Spock take off for the mess hall, traveling in  companionable silence. 

“I’ll get us lunch, you get a seat?” Jim asks when they arrive, and Spock inclines his head and they part ways. 

Jim walks to the replicator and orders himself some chicken and Spock an Andorian salad. When he takes the trays in hand and turns to face the room, he grins at the sight of Spock and Bones sitting together across the way and moves to join them. 

“Thank you, Captain,” Spock says when Jim puts the salad in front of him, eyes crinkling in an almost-smile, and Jim loves him. 

“You are welcome,” he says, sitting down and turning to Bones. “So, anything interesting happen in medical today?”

“Just some dumbass ensigns,” Bones says, rolling his eyes.

“Everyone okay?” Jim asks. 

“Yeah,” Bones says. “How’s the bridge?”

“Remarkably quiet, without any doctors barging in to create unnecessary disturbances,” Spock says, and Bones turns to him, pointing his fork. 

“Are you calling me annoying?” he demands. 

“You are the one who introduced the term ‘annoying’ to the conversation,” Spock says serenely. 

“If anyone’s annoying, it’s you, you pointy bastard,” Bones says. 

“Vulcans do not experience offense,” Spock says. “However, humans seem to.”

“I’ll show you ‘offense’,” Bones cries, and Jim smiles at them. They are ridiculous, his best friends. They argue for the sake of it, just as a way to practice being mean, Jim thinks, but he knows they consider the other a friend, perhaps even a brother. 

“What are you smiling about?” Bones asks, and Jim’s smile widens. 

“I was thinking about how much I enjoy your company,” he says. “Both of you.”

“Spock’s always calling me mentally unsound but I think it might be you,” Bones says, rolling his eyes. 

“The captain is quite sane, even if his taste in friends is questionable,” Spock says, eyes sparkling. Jim laughs and stands up, clapping Bones on the shoulder. God, he loves Spock. 

As they head back to the bridge, Jim can’t stop thinking it. I love him, I love him, I love him. It echoes inside him, mimicking his heartbeat, a tattoo bursting to be free. I love him, I love him, I love him. 

They are only on the bridge for about half an hour before they’ve arrived at the planet and it’s time to beam down. Jim takes himself, Sulu, Spock, and a couple scientists. He brings a single security person for good measure, and they beam down to Illyz II, reforming into a burst of sunshine and warmth. 

The sky is a pale lavender color, and the grass is a deep blue, nearly as tall as Jim’s waist. In the distance, there are twisted trees arching into some sort of forest, and in the meadow all around them Jim spots bright yellow flowers, arching up towards the sun. The team fans out, Spock’s scientists going to collect samples as Sulu fawns over a flower, the security officer doing a perimeter sweep. Jim follows Spock to one of the yellow flowers. It’s big, each petal around the size of Jim’s hand and the whole flower certainly larger than his face. 

“It reminds me a bit of a sunflower,” Jim says. 

“I can see the resemblance,” Spock says. “But look at the blue stem--perhaps the chlorophyll is a different color, or there is no chlorophyll at all.” He bends down into the grass to reach for a leaf. Jim reaches a hand out to brush the petals. It’s very soft. “Fascinating,” Spock murmurs. Jim looks down to see that he is peering at his tricorder. He smiles softly down at him, and watches him inspect the flower for a few more minutes. Spock never gets visibly excited, but Jim can still tell that he is. His eyes are bright and he keeps looking at the tricorder to make notes. 

I love him, Jim thinks. 

He doesn’t want to be useless, so he gathers some soil samples, then some leaf samples. When he’s done, he turns back to Spock to see that he is still engrossed in the plant. Jim makes a mental note to switch Spock’s schedule for the labs tomorrow so he can continue his study. 

Jim leaves his side to ask the other scientists about their discoveries and get a better lay of the area. One of the scientists tells him the purple air is probably caused by a gas that so far is only known to be on Andoria. Another scientist tells him about something in the dirt that makes it softer, and after Jim notices that the soil does seem a little bit bouncy. 

After a while, the initial team beams up. Another one beams down to do some more investigating on the other side of the planet. Sulu takes Spock and Jim’s samples to the labs, and captain and first officer return to the bridge. 

“Did you like the planet?” Jim asks in the turbolift. 

“I have no strong opinions on the matter,” Spock says, which Jim takes to be a ‘yes’. He smiles at the wall and strides out when the doors open, settling on his chair and swiveling it to the side to face Uhura. 

“Report,” he says, and he loses himself in the rhythm and routine of the bridge. 

After Jim’s shift is over, he and Spock meet the second away team in Briefing Room 2. Jim lets Spock take charge, asking the questions and gathering the report, content to listen to Spock’s deep voice and watch him in his element. 

He’s so handsome, Jim thinks dreamily, watching Spock from across the table. I love him so much. 

Jim is half-zoned out but he manages to tell everyone good work anyway. Someone will send him a report of the events of the day anyway and he’ll pay attention to what they learned when he reads that. He dismisses the away team and says the next one is good to go, and then he and Spock stand together and leave. 

“My quarters?” he asks. 

“Certainly,” Spock says, and Jim smiles at him. They’ve had a longstanding chess-and-dinner date three times a week for nearly a year now, although they do alternate whose quarters they go to. Sometimes they meet up more, and sometimes less, but mostly they end their shift and walk, shoulder-to-shoulder, and eat dinner. It’s so domestic that Jim can hardly stand it. 

They spend so much of their day together, Jim thinks, watching Spock get out the chess board as he programs vegetarian lasagna into his personal replicator. So much of it. They’re practically married already, even if Jim hasn’t said the thing that lies heavy in his mouth. 

I love him.

He slides a plate of lasagna in front of Spock and puts the other in front of himself. They eat together in companionable silence. Jim loves how comfortable they are together--he loves a lot of things, really. 

Spock clears up the dishes and Jim finishes setting up the chess board. He lets Spock have white, since Jim is hosting.

“Have any theories about that blue grass?” Jim asks. “Indigo chlorophyll, or whatever?” Spock moves his first piece and starts talking. Jim loves listening to him talk, especially when he’s passionate, and he half-pays attention to Spock and gives the other half of his attention to the game. 

The words stick behind his teeth like they fit there. Jim knows it would be so easy to just say them, to let them loose, but he also knows that Vulcans don’t  _ do  _ emotions. The words he’d said after Psi 2000 haunt him-- _ when I feel friendship for you, I feel ashamed.  _ So Jim knows that even if Spock felt the same way, he wouldn’t be comfortable enough to act on those feelings, and Jim doesn’t think he could handle it if he  _ knew  _ there was reciprocation, if they left the words sit between them. He thinks it’d be too much if they were out in the open, and he doesn’t want to scare Spock away. They are safer inside him, even though they always want to escape. 

I love him, I love him, I love him. 

Sometimes their chess games last longer, days and days, but tonight Spock wins after some uncountable hours. Jim walks him to the bathroom for no real reason, and Spock’s lips tilt in an almost-smile.

“Sleep well, Jim,” Spock says.

“Goodnight, Mister Spock,” Jim says, leaning against the doorframe, and Spock nods and leaves, the bathroom doors closing with a soft woosh behind him. Jim smiles helplessly after him, and then he turns around to finish off some paperwork and go to bed.

He falls asleep easily, content in the day and happy to see what tomorrow will hold. 

-

Spock wakes up naturally at 0530 and engages in light stretches designed to wake him up fully. He replicates himself a Vulcan fruit and eats it slowly while he makes sure nothing happened in the night, then changes from his sleeping robe into his exercise robe. He finishes his fruit and disposes of the core, leaving his quarters and going down the hall to the turbolift. 

It is not between shifts, so it is fairly quiet. Spock is, of course, fully awake, but he does find the morning quiet--no matter that it is not morning for the entire ship--soothing. 

He arrives at the gym and goes to the treadmill. He begins with simple walking, and is just about to change the settings to be uphill and perhaps a bit faster when the captain enters his line of vision. 

Jim does not treadmill on Wednesdays, but he does move to the equipment right in front of the treadmills and lay on his back to begin lifting--shirtless, of course. 

Spock used to lift weights with Jim on Wednesday mornings, but he realized it would be much more logical to treadmill instead. If this logic is based on the fact that the treadmills face the bench presses and therefore one on the treadmills would have an optimal view of one on the bench press, well--Spock is merely concerned for his friend’s safety. 

Possibly. Sometimes it is hard to remember what he was thinking about before when Jim’s bare arms tremble as he lifts the weights. 

Spock tears his gaze away after ten point six minutes and increases the incline on the treadmill. He sneaks another glance at Jim, and then looks away. 

I love him, he thinks, and he allows the thought to form before pushing it away and focusing instead on running uphill. 

After an hour of exercise, Spock watches Jim head for the showers and follows suit. He takes a sonic shower and washes himself efficiently before replicating himself a uniform and changing into it. He is halfway through his makeup before Jim emerges from his own water shower, his hair clinging to his forehead and his golden tunic slung over his shoulder. 

Spock puts on purple eyeshadow and pretends he is not watching Jim ruffle his hair with his towel to dry it. Jim then uses his hands and gel to comb through and flatten his hair into it’s usual style, his tongue sticking out slightly in concentration, and Spock loves him. 

Once they are finished, the pair head to the turbolift. Spock knows that Jim doesn’t eat before the gym, and that he will be hungry, so he directs the turbolift to the mess hall. Spock already ate, but he takes a breakfast bar anyway so that Jim will see evidence that he has eaten. Spock does not want to be a burden on Jim, ever, and wants the captain to not worry about him. So he eats a couple bites of the breakfast bar before resealing it and putting it in his pocket for later. 

Jim pats his shoulder standing up from the table. 

“I’m gonna go to the bridge,” he says, winking. “See you later.”

Spock is slightly confused before his PADD chimes; he is assigned to the labs today--not to oversee the discoveries of yesterday, but to study them himself. He exhales at his PADD. 

I love him, he thinks, knowing the captain is to thank for this particular assignment. 

The labs are quiet and soothing. Spock recognizes the two away teams from yesterday, working fastidiously. Sulu greets him with a nod and a smile, and Spock nods back before going to his station and taking out some of the samples. 

When he is working, it is easy for Spock to lose track of time. Somewhere in his mind, he knows how much time has passed, but he doesn’t pay attention to it, just to the samples before him. He becomes aware of the time passed when he hears Sulu and Lieutenant Th’gin begin to talk to each other about lunch, and he realizes that four point seven hours have passed. 

Spock puts his samples away and complies a quick report of his findings before he leaves to go to the mess hall. He finds the captain sitting alone with a sandwich, and Spock replicates himself plomeek soup before joining him. 

“Where is Doctor McCoy?” he asks as he sits. 

“Lieutenant Rose is having xir baby,” Jim says. 

“Ah,” Spock says. He dips his spoon into his soup.

“How were the labs?” Jim asks. 

“Successful,” Spock says. “I believe we have sufficient data on the flora of Illyz II.”

“Good,” Jim says. “Did anyone find any fauna?”

“I do not believe so,” Spock says. 

“Too bad,” Jim says. “I bet they’d be pretty cool if that blue chlorophyll is anything to go by.”

“Perhaps,” Spock says, thinking that ‘cool’ is a subjective matter. However, he agrees with Jim’s assessment. “Has anything happened on the bridge?”

“Nah,” Jim says. “Spent the morning harassing Bones, actually, until Rose went into labor.”

“How long ago did xir labor begin?”

“Like two hours ago,” Jim says. “Bones was pretty excited--he’s never delivered a Zenoboran baby before.”

“As they are fairly new to the Federation, that statistic would make sense.”

“Yeah,” Jim says. “He does have something like ten different baby delivery species, though.”

“Impressive,” Spock says. 

“He whines about being in space but he loves that kinda stuff,” Jim says, shaking his head fondly before finishing off his sandwich. Although it would be perfectly acceptable for him to leave now that his lunch is consumed, the captain stays sitting while Spock finishes his soup, keeping up their idle chatter about ship’s business. 

When Spock is done, Jim takes his bowl, careful not to touch Spock’s hands, and his own tray to dispose of them. He comes back with two sugar sweets from Orion--one of Spock’s favorite desserts. 

“Here you go,” Jim says, grinning, and Spock loves him. 

“Thank you, Jim,” he says, and Jim’s grin widens as it always does when Spock uses his given name outside of their quarters. They go to the bridge together, and Jim flops onto his chair and gives the command to begin moving away from Illyz II. Another ship will be by shortly to continue their work and investigations, but the  _ Enterprise  _ has gotten a new assignment. 

The rest of the afternoon is filled with starmapping, which is not very thrilling but it is something Spock finds contentment in, regardless. He finds it satisfying to be in uncharted space--who knows what they will find?

After three point four hours, Uhura reports an audio anomaly. 

“It’s kind of like a melody,” she says. 

“Let me listen,” Jim demands, getting up from his chair and moving to her station. Spock uses his own instruments to tune in, and finds that there is indeed a faint strand of music coming from outside the ship. It is a melody unlike any Spock has heard before, but it is pleasing to the ear nonetheless. 

“It sounds kind of like Earth classical music!” Jim says, sounding delighted. 

“Yes, it’s a bit Beethoven, isn’t it?” Uhura asks. Spock makes a note to listen to Beethoven, who must be an ancient composer if Spock hasn’t listened to them yet, although he has heard the name before. 

“Mister Spock, your thoughts?” Jim says, appearing behind Spock suddenly, hand on Spock’s shoulder. Spock takes an instant to savor the contact. Nobody else touches him. 

(Nobody else is allowed to.) 

“The sound is fainter than it was a moment ago,” Spock says. “Perhaps we are moving away from the source.”

“Shall we follow it?” Jim asks, leaning into Spock’s space. Spock lets him. 

“If you deem it prudent,” Spock says. 

“I’d love to know what the source is,” Uhura says.

“Sounds interesting!” Sulu says. 

“You know, Beethoven was Russian,” Chekov adds, unhelpfully. 

“He was German,” Uhura says reproachfully, and Jim exhales a quiet laugh into the miniscule space between himself and Spock. 

“Spock and Uhura, figure out which direction it’s coming from, and give Sulu the heading,” Jim says before straightening and heading to his chair. “Bones will be sad he missed this.”

“By ‘this’ do you mean the auditory anomaly, or Mr. Chekov claiming Beethoven was Russian?” Spock asks. “I did not know the doctor was so invested in classical Earth music.”

Jim laughs again, and Spock turns back to his station, pleased.

By the time his shift is over, he and Uhura have calculated the direction the anamoly seems to originate from, and the  _ Enterprise  _ has shifted direction. Spock returns to his quarters and records a log of the day’s event, and then he finds his communicator and sends a message out. 

Fourteen point seven minutes later, his door chimes. 

“Enter,” Spock calls, and the door opens to let Jim in. He rubs his hands together. 

“I was promised Vulcan food and I expect a fulfillment of that promise,” Jim says. “Say, shall we practice my Vulcansu while we eat?”

“Certainly,” Spock says, setting out two plates of a traditional Vulcan food before them. Jim seems pleased with the dish, and after sampling the vegetables tells Spock that he finds them “delicious”. Spock ducks his head, pleased despite the fact that he didn’t cook the food. 

I love him, he thinks. Jim is always wanting to learn more about Spock’s culture, and is progressing nicely on learning the language, and Spock adores him, admires him, loves him. 

After one point five hours, Jim excuses himself and Spock takes his lyre and heads to the officer’s recreation room. Uhura is already waiting, and Spock settles beside her. 

“How was dinner?” she asks. 

“Satisfactory,” Spock says. Good, he thinks. 

He begins to play, and Uhura sings along. After two songs, she suggests he try to imitate the sound they are following. Spock plucks out notes, recalling the repeating melody they observed earlier that day. He figures out the first measure and then looks up at the sound of applause. 

Jim is sitting on a chair across the room, grinning at him. Doctor McCoy is next to him, a plate of food on his lap and his head nearly leaning on Jim’s shoulder. He seems tired. 

Jim meets Spock’s eyes and grins, and Spock ducks his head to refocus on the lyre, suppressing the urge to lift the corners of his own mouth. 

Jim knows that Wednesday night is music night, and he has come once again. He has come every week since Spock told him that he and Uhura had arranged a time, and Spock loves him. 

I love him, I love him, I love him, he thinks as he plucks out new notes, as Uhura suggests the next note, as Jim attempts--badly--to sing the melody of earlier. 

When they have figured out the melody to the best of Spock’s lyre’s ability, Spock plays it a time or two to applause, and then Uhura allows him to play a song without her accompaniment. He chooses a pre-reform song about t’hy’la. The room falls silent after he starts, and bursts into applause at the finish. Spock looks up at the crowd and makes eye contact with Jim, who is smiling softly, in the way that Spock imagines is just for him.

Spock is pleased to have elicited an emotional response, and then when the applause dies down Uhura bursts into an earth song that Spock doesn’t know. He is content to listen, and he moves to sit on Jim’s other side. 

“Nice song,” Doctor McCoy says. 

“Yeah, it was beautiful,” Jim says. His eyes look wet. “What was it about?”

“Friendship,” Spock says. “And brotherhood.”

“A fitting sentiment,” Jim says, and then he turns back to pay attention to Uhura. “It might just be my new favorite.”

Spock conceals his smile as he has concealed the third meaning of the song, and waits until Uhura has finished before he asks Doctor McCoy how Lieutenant Rose is doing. 

After, he and Jim walk back to their quarters together. Jim bids him goodnight at the door, and Spock almost wants to invite him in for chess. But it is late, and Spock has paperwork to complete. 

When the mission first started, Spock needed extra meditation to cope with being so surrounded by humans, and especially by being so surrounded by James Kirk. But now the emotions the man elicits in Spock’s heart are common and Spock feels them every day, every moment. He has made peace with the emotions, content in their unrequited nature. 

He loves Jim, so much that sometimes his side feels like it might seize and collapse, but he is content with where they are, and their friendship. He thinks it would hurt more to say it than it would to just hold the emotions inside of him, and so he says nothing. 

Spock meditates briefly when his paperwork is done, and then he prepares for bed and gets in, pulls the blankets tight. 

He falls asleep easily, contented, and perhaps even pleased, with another day aboard the  _ Enterprise _ .

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!! comments & kudos always enjoyed & appreciated!
> 
> LLAP


End file.
